


Two true critics

by charlottefrey



Series: cf's Advent Calendar 2015 [2]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Gaby is Napoleons lil sis, M/M, Snogging, They'd be awesome siblings, Train Ride, made up bad novel, no proper time period, sleeping, they could be literally anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-03 20:37:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5305973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlottefrey/pseuds/charlottefrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A train ride from Paris to Barcelona sounds nice...especially with good company. Though Illya just broke up with his girlfriend, he takes a liking in Napoleon Solo, with whom he shares one thing: His hate for bad literature.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two true critics

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like the Napollya thing! It's very cute and fluffy.

N2. “You saw me reading the same book you did and we got into a heated discussion on how much it sucks” AU ([XX](http://tokiosunset.tumblr.com/post/105774914690))

 

* * *

 

Illya sat down in the small compartment in the train from Paris to Barcelona. The day was a surprisingly rainy and dreary day for Paris, but it was only fine with him. Leaving Paris after a fairly terrible break-up with his girlfriend was only freeing him. And also using the remainder of his two weeks off work, which were actually planned to be spent in Paris, without any romantic involvement in any way sounded relaxing.

But then the door opened and a man stepped in. Tall, broad shouldered, dark hair slicked back, looking delectable in his three piece suit made out of the best Italian wool on the market. The silver-grey colour highlighted the other’s blue eyes. The court nod and gentle smile only made him more attractive to Illya. But he bit his lower lip and resumed to read his book.

   “Do you like Beaton’s Cabinet?” The man asked and Illya’s head shot up. It had been quiet for about half an hour since the train had departed. But now the man stared at him, his blue eyes bore into Illya’s. Perplexed by the question, he opened his mouth. “Napoleon Solo.” The man said and stretched his hand out, leaning forward.

   “Illya Kuryakin.” The reply came slow and a little late, but when the other’s hand had made contact with Illya’s, the strength in these fingers had momentarily wipped his mind empty. “And no, I do not like this book.” His English came out slow and gentle. “I read it to get better and it was the first in the shop.”

   “You paid good money for a very bad book.” Napoleon said with obvious distaste in the book. “It’s a total rip off if you ask me.” Sitting back again, the American smiled at Illya.

   “I know. Already the beginning when Lord North is introduced is boring me. Also the fact that he has taken a Lady that does not look upon society happily is not the biggest …” Illya searched for words and frowned angrily.

   “Yeah, I agree, it’s oh-so-very-new.” Napoleon made a funny gestures and rolled his eyes. “I have taken a real dislike in Lady Archer, her mother. This…monster is later in the book changed to an angle from heaven. Tz.”

   “I haven’t yet gotten to the part, but another thing I hate is the weird love-triangle between Miss Archer, Lord North and Sir Pears. What on earth was she thinking when she wrote that.” Illya said, still slightly struggling with his vocab.

   “Yes, yes.” Napoleon looked delighted. “I have talked about this book to my sister Gaby and she was ecstatic about it. Loved it, how can I be related to someone who loves such crappy books?” Weirdly, both laughed, as if Illya knew Napoleon for a long time, knew his sister.

   “Who knows. Maybe you got the good…things?” Again, Illya hated himself for not knowing more English. But Napoleon laughed nonetheless.

   “You flatter me, but you haven’t met my little sister yet. She’s got good genes too.” Napoleon winked, but Illya didn’t pick up on the meaning, rather the act. He blushed and looked out of the window. “Where are you heading?”

   “Barcelona.” Illya said, happy with the change of subject.

   “Same here. I think we will have a delight full trip. Are you a snorer?” Surprised, the Russian shook his head softly. Napoleon grinned. “Wonderful.”

 

-|-|-|-|-|-|-

 

More passengers had come into their compartment over the time and suddenly, when Illya had gone to the toilet, a stinky, disgusting thing, his seat was taken with an old lady and a basket of kitten. Despite the kittens, Illya was annoyed. The only free spot now was beside Napoleon, who looked out of the window leisurely. Illya sighed and sat down.

  “I would have said something, but the old lady insisted on sitting down there, the other way round she’d be sitting in a way that would make her sick.” Napoleon flashed a bright smile at Illya and the anger was forgotten. Simply blown away. Time passed and Illya resumed reading, but this time proper literature. Napoleon simply looked out of the window, a smile on his lips and his chin in his hand.

Night slowly fell and the compartment emptied, bit by bit. Only the lady with the kittens stayed. At some point she had handed Illya one and the giant Russian petted the fluffy kitten so very gently. Napoleon had woken from his daydreaming to look at him with a soft smile. But when the lady left, Illya handed her the kitten and she smiled as she packed it away. She said something before leaving.

   “What did she say?” Illya asked Napoleon.

   “She whished you a good life and generous future. Apparently you made a long lasting impression on her.” Napoleon’s eyes crinkled up with a broad smile and Illya was momentarily distracted by his smile lines.

   “Apparently.” He was able to get out and looked back down on his book. As the night fell completely with it’s starts, Napoleon doze more and more, until his head hit Illya’s shoulder and he slept soundly. Illya himself was tired out by the train ride and so he leaned against Napoleon.

 

-|-|-|-|-|-|-

 

Somewhere in the middle of the night, the only sound the rattling of the train, Illya woke. Napoleon had moved and he sat back up again to watch the American. His hair was sleep mussed and his suit crinkled. The other looked back at Illya and suddenly came closer, face first. Hands were placed on both sides of his face and a soft kiss was pressed to Illya’s lips. He answered the soft pressure of Napoleon’s lips with his own.

The American smiled into the kiss and slid closer, winding his hands around Illya’s neck. At some point Napoleon broke the kiss and Illya opened his eyes to watch the American strip of his jacket and sit on his lap. The massive shoulder, already impressive in the suit jacket were even more so outside of them. The waistcoat was tight fitting, but the white shit was loose and crinkled.

Running his hands up and down Napoleon’s arms, Illya watched the other face, which now loomed above him. Bending down Napoleon resumed kissing the Russian.

* * *

 

For more stuff [visit my blog](http://charlotte-frey.tumblr.com/tagged/Advent%20Calendar%202015)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, giving kudos and commenting!  
> Have a gorgeous 2nd of December!


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